


Nursemaids, Bandaids, and Screaming Cabbages.

by TinyBat



Series: Bullets and Biohazards: All Things Grant and Jemma [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cuddles!, F/M, Gen, accidental injury, some mention of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:04:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyBat/pseuds/TinyBat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grant wakes from a very strange dream, finding himself very thirsty. on his way to the galley for water, he finds a very awake Jemma, and fractured toes occur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nursemaids, Bandaids, and Screaming Cabbages.

**Author's Note:**

> I was attempting to sleep and this happened. It wouldn't leave me alone. Sorry for clogging up the tag! Grant's briefly mentioned dream is inspired by The Yodeling Pickle which you can find on Amazon.

A particularly strange and unsettling dream about screaming vegetables had woken Ward out of an otherwise quite pleasant sleep. He was sweating, and thirsty. Untangling the sheets from around his legs he stumbled out into the hallway as quietly as possible. Skye was irascible when woken and he was fairly sure Fitz would torture him with those damn helicopters if roused. He hadn’t nailed down Simmons’ schedule yet, it was worryingly erratic. May was a mystery and nobody had Coulson figured.

Making his way through the central sitting area was easy enough, the galley and a bottle of water were just on the other side. Those vegetables were really quite disturbing. He was passing by a small alcove with a footstool and jumped when he saw that Simmons was sitting there with a very large book. She jumped as well and blanched as her sock less left foot connected with the molding on the seat with a sickening crunch.  
The low hissing noise escaping her lips almost immediately gave way to a volley of curses that shocked Grant even further awake than seeing her had.

"This is going to sound really bad but I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was up. Are you alright?" Grant asked as Jemma tightly gripped at a corner of the alcove, attempting to right herself and stand. She shook her head and attempted to smile, taking the hand he offered to help her up.

"Have you noticed that things like this hurt a great deal more than more severe injuries?"

"Having been shot, and having also fractured toes I can say yes. Can you walk?" He steadied her, wrapping an arm around her waist as the attempt to put even the smallest amount of weight on her foot sent shooting pain up her leg. Jemma shook her head again, swearing softly and leaning against Grant’s side for support.

"Walk, no. Hop, yes. If you can help me get to the lab I can patch myself up and you can get back to bed." Grant nodded and easily took most of her weight, opting not to point out the blood oozing out from between two of her toes. No use having her fret about the mess. She held on more tightly than necessary and it validated Skye’s comments that maybe Simmons liked Ward more than she let on.

Getting to the lab was slow but entertaining going. Steady as he was, Grant was still tired and Jemma only had one working foot. The swaying and bumping against walls and doors caused giggles to bubble up from Jemma’s lips, distracting her from the pain.

"So, since you’re so dutifully performing the knight in shining armor role, what would you like in return?" The biochemist inquired as they clumsily negotiated themselves through the doorway to the lab. She winced as he gently shifted her into a chair and slid a stool under her injured foot.

"If you have sedatives, I’d love some. I woke up from a dream about screaming cabbages and thought my throat was on fire." He wasn’t all that concerned about over sharing as it was very early and he had practically carried her through the darkened bus. The quality of the light in the lab was better and he started processing her pajamas or lack thereof. She was wearing a humorously oversized Captain America shirt and if there was anything under it, he couldn’t tell. The trick now would be not to stare at her admittedly shapely and pale calfs and thighs.

"We have horse tranquilizers, an elephant dart, NyQuil, and the last few mission briefings, which I find usually do quite nicely. Screaming vegetables?" As she listed off the sedatives on hand she rummaged through a small gray box for bandages, tape, and gauze. The extent of her injury didn’t seem to have occurred just yet. Grant didn’t think her bending to examine it would be the best idea. The blood dotting the floor to the lab wasn’t a huge mess but it might cause some alarm to the still half asleep scientist.

"Yes, vegetables. Why don’t you let me do that. Any strain on the calf might cause more movement than you want right-" he stopped, she had noticed the state of her foot. The bruising had already begun, one of her toenails was in really bad shape, and the blood was drying between her toes, making it difficult to determine the full extent of the injury.

"Oh dear." The color that had slowly come back to her cheeks drained away, being replaced with a sickly greenish tinge. For someone who could quite happily spend time elbow deep in some truly foul stuff, Jemma didn’t take injuries to her own person very well. Grant found himself wanting very much to distract her from the blood, and the pain but any way he could think of was being overrun by her still very exposed legs.

"Just hold still and I’ll clean you up." He methodically dampened a cotton ball and gently cleansed her toes of any blood that wasn’t fresh, carefully avoiding the broken nail. He’d had a similar injury in the field and it did hurt a great deal more than being shot. The pained moan that forced itself from her, tensing her whole body made him uneasy. He was terrible at doing this for other people.

"I didn’t expect anyone to be awake either. Had I known, I would have worn something more substantial." She whispered, gesturing at her tshirt. Grant smiled, trying not to convey his concern and increasing agitation. "It’s fine, I routinely have beautiful women fall all over me and Captain Rogers is an excellent poker player." Half of that was true, he was a very good poker player. He attributed his skill to his tour with the USO. Jemma rolled her eyes and playfully swatted his arm as Grant wadded up a piece of gauze and pressed it between her two clearly fractured toes.

"Do you always play nursemaid to said beautiful women?" She stretched, taking hold on the desk behind her as Grant attempted to tape her toes together. It was a rush job but he’d happily fix it when her shirt wasn’t riding up as she moved. She was doing it on purpose, but not taking the bait was his way of saying that he wanted something more, even if he couldn’t articulate what more was just yet

"Only when I’m very lucky. And I’ve been very lucky just once. She told me I was a knight in shining armor." He helped her to her feet, noticing more keenly than usual how delicately built she was. Jemma smirked up at him, brushing her hair back with her fingers. "Well she must have been brilliant. She was right." Her hands dug through the box again and came out with two blister packs of capsules. She handed one to Grant, and took one for herself; tearing it open and downing the white oblong pills without water. Grant could do many things but dry swallowing pills wasn’t one of them.

"If these are your sedatives then before I get you to bed, couch, or wherever you plan on sleeping, I need water." He offered his arm and Jemma happily took it, gingerly placing her weight on her heel and letting him guide her out.

The trip to the kitchen was much faster with Jemma having what ended up being a foot and a half and she leaned against the counter as Grant attacked a large bottle of water. When he was finished she indicated the room usually used for movies or news footage. “That’s where I’m sleeping. Help me get there?” Not wanting to imagine Jemma, her Captain America shirt, and her bed, Grant obliged. He deposited her on the couch and he stole a blanket from one of the chairs, draping it over her as she attempted to get comfortable. It was the polite thing to do as she still was very much without pants of any kind.

Jemma patted the considerable amount of space beside her, pulling Grant down to her level and awkwardly situating him half on the couch and half on the floor. She kissed him softly on the cheek and any desire he had to go back to his own bed disappeared. “Thank you, oh knight of mine. I’d have had quite a time without you. Even if it was your fault.” Grant shifted, leaning against the couch next to her, looking up at her amused expression with one of his own.

"My fault? How was it my fault?"

"You startled me. I was perfectly comfortable and intact until you snuck up on me." She poked him firmly in the shoulder and he just shook his head. "I didn’t sneak. I don’t sneak. I never sneak. I do this!" Grant lifted her up, moved her over, and situated himself next to her on the couch, with her leaning into his side. She was the easiest to talk to, and frequently the only one he wanted to talk to. For now, while it was dark he could allow himself just a taste of what he wanted and she wasn’t pulling away.

"No, the great Grant Ward finesses. He doesn’t sneak like the rest of us common agents." She draped his arm around her shoulders, yawning and nuzzled into his shoulder. "He also makes a top notch nursemaid and pillow for the infirmed." Jemma pulled the blanket up around them, and was out like a light. Grant followed shortly after, pulling her closer to his chest for warmth and allowing himself to enjoy the moment before sleep stole it from him.

The next morning, they were only disturbed briefly by Coulson who snapped a photo and quietly slipped away. Jemma was in too much pain to stop him and Grant was perfectly happy to allow Jemma to stay sleepily molded against him. He’d kill Fitz if he said anything and Skye knew better. He did want a copy of Coulson’s photo though. She fit in next to him perfectly and shifted to close any spaces created when he stretched or moved. They both needed this, even if they couldn’t put it to words. He liked looking at her and seeing her face as she looked at him, she was genuinely happy to be close to him and if it had to stop, he’d cherish the memory of her face and how she felt by him.


End file.
